In the course of human history the market was the place where urban dwellers went to buy the essentials of life: the food and other items needed for survival.  It was more like the farmers’ markets and craft shows of today.  Local artisans and farmers sold their wares directly to their neighbors.  The market was not made up of anonymous producers, retailers, and consumers, but people who knew each other or who know about each other.

“To market to market to buy a fat pig,

Home again home again jiggety jig.”

I remember this nursery rhyme from my childhood, and it was outdated even then.  It comes from a time when people went to the market to buy a live animal, then led it home on the hoof to prepare it as food.  Today almost no one buys a whole pig; and even if you wanted to, you would not find one for sale at your local supermarket.  Today we buy our meat already butchered for us and cut up into little pieces that bear little resemblance to the creature from which it came.  And we do not call it “pig” but “pork,” obscuring even more its earthy origins.

Likewise with plant food.  So much of what we eat comes already cooked and packaged.  A prepackaged meal is often so disguised that we may not even know what the ingredients are until we read the list of them on the box.  All we do it is pop the tray into the oven or microwave and voilà we have food to eat.

Or do we?

As Michael Pollan says in his latest book In Defense of Food, much of what we eat today is not real food but “food-like” substances, which our grandmothers would not recognize.  These products are the offspring of science and the food industry.  We eat these so-called foods because they are convenient.  We can eat them in the car, or at our desks, or while we are watching television.  Many people today are too busy to cook or even to eat with their families.  Our food culture has degraded, and this state of affairs has diminished our spiritual well being.

It is time for us to get food on the theological table and for people of faith to ponder the ethics of eating.

When we go shopping to buy our food, we need to ask important questions, like where did this food come from?  Who grew it and how many miles did it travel before it reached my table?  What is the life story of the animal who ended up in this package of hamburger?  Did the growing or producing of this food enhance or diminish the land from which it came? Most of us do not know anything about the wages of the workers who picked the tomatoes we put in our shopping carts, or how much pollution the farm raised salmon produced.

It is the custom of religious people to give thanks to God for the food we eat, recognizing our dependence on God and showing gratitude for our sustenance.  Today we need to go a step further and recognize the consequences our food choices have on other people and on the Earth itself.

It has long been the practice of people of faith to have compassion on the poor and to speak out on issues of social justice.  Today those justice issues have become global in scope.  Likewise, our food culture has become global.  In one shopping cart we can toss berries from Chile, ginger from Hawaii; carrots from California; and cantaloupe from Guatemala.  It takes a huge industry to move all this food around the world; and along with other corporate systems like Big Oil and Big Pharma, Big Food’s priority is the corporation’s bottom line.  For us to participate in the commoditization of our food culture without flinching, in other words, to be merely passive consumers who let others make our food choices for us, is against the values embodied in our religious beliefs and practices.

Take the eating of meat, for example.  It takes sixteen pounds of grain to produce a pound of feedlot beef, while it takes one pound of grain to produce one pound of bread.  The land that is put into use for the growing of grain to feed meat animals takes away from growing produce which could feed the local people.  Many developing nations have lost their ability to feed themselves.  Their land is used for grain which they export to the wealthier nations for their beef and animal feeds.  Ironically, many of the people who grow this grain are too poor to buy meat for themselves to eat, and they go hungry or else eat poorly.

If we Americans reduced our meat consumption by ten percent, there would be enough grain saved to feed sixty million people.  This astonishing message should be preached from the housetops!  It is so simple; it is so easy; it is so logical and compassionate.

I have on my desk a home made sign which reads “Simplicity; Hospitality; Generosity.”  It reminds me of the values by which I want to live.  This mantra applies to my eating as well as to other areas of my life.  In Vermont where I live there is an active “Buy Local” movement, which encourages people to buy food that is grown within a fifty-mile radius of home.  Sometimes this is difficult, especially in winter, but it is an exciting challenge and one which strengthens the soul as well as the body.  It encourages simplicity because you opt out of the industrial food system by growing your own food, or else buying it from local farmers whom you know.  In this way you can check up on how the food is grown and how the farmer treats the land.  It is generous because you are trying to make life better for others by eating and shopping more responsibly; and it is hospitable because the good food you end up with, cooked by your own hands, is so delicious that you want to share it with your family and friends over a common meal.

“Eating is an agricultural act,” Wendell Berry famously wrote.  It is also a spiritual act, reflecting our values, our desires, and our awareness.  The more we learn about our food — how to eat it more mindfully, to shop for it more responsibly, and to share it more generously — helps it to become “holy food for God’s holy people.”